The meat market at the St. Valentine’s gym

All I know about this mythical day is that the day after is where I binge buy the 50% off chocolates. Why are they on sale? WHO CARES MOM, GRAB ‘EM BEFORE BARB FILLS UP HER CART.

Long story short: Valentine’s Day is bullshit.

Though, I feel like it will be filled with even more bullshit this year because I’ll be Italy for it. Yes, I know, we’ve been through this before, you’re thinking, but Natasha, Italy is the land of romance and heated sweaty passionate Italian succulent kisses.

Let me clarify- it’s the land of cheese, smoked pig flesh, wine, and hair gel. All which if ingested will slowly turn your body into a cottage cheese ball of sadness. Hence, why I am now dairy-free (I lied, it’s not by choice- dairy makes me gassy).

Traditionally, I spent my Valentine’s Day going to the gym. This tradition started not from my need to pull some sort of American success story where I worked out, suddenly grew a pair of tits where I then propelled my career as a motivational speaking and model, representing previously non-titted girls, where I vomit the phrase, “love yourself” onto my prepubescent audience.

I was an hormonally unbalanced teenager. I went to scope out the single testosterone filled mongoloids who stared at themselves in the mirror.

I believe this was where I originally started my career in scientific research.

See, I had discovered the trick was to go after 7:30 – 7:45 pm. If you went any earlier, many guys were squeezing in a workout before they ran to their local Safeway to buy the last overpriced dying bouquet of yellow roses because the red ones were already sold out. Yellow roses, symbolize friendship, don’t buy those unless you’re confirming a solid friend-zone relationship to a non-potential loved one.

So, by 8:00 pm, the only ones that were hanging out by the dumbells were the singles, my kinda people. My theory was genius. It was indestructible. But, there were two issues. The single chicks that were also at the gym had fat asses. I jump on that gravy train a little later in life – I started squatting yesterday. Also, my theory was only able to point out who was single. That was it. I just gained the knowledge of their martial status and held it close to my heart at night, just felt the warmth of knowing. I did attempt to apply this theory to real life and attempted to talk to one of my targets. I decided that the best option was to either look injured or drop a weight on the ground, forcing him to assist me.

I dropped the weight. He stared at me and walked by. But, he looked at me, so that was enough motivation to keep me going.

And every year since then, I went to the gym.

The end.

No, it doesn’t end there. There’s a non-climatic plot twist for this upcoming Valentine’s Day.

I don’t have a gym membership.

It has been confirmed, rejection comes in 3’s

But does it count if it’s done by the same person?

I wouldn’t even consider this a rejection, I would call it a verbal stabbing.

I was tipsy, with my best male friend, and alas we end up wrestling and making-out. However, that was interrupted with a sudden jolt as he jumped back and said “that we cannot go further”. Which I get, it’s fine. HOWEVER. The conversation then continued with him, again, stating that he’s never had a connection with a female like he’s had one with me. GREAT. Which then continued by saying,

“you know, I don’t want to categorize people, but there are some girls that when I look at, I need to have them. It’s like something in my brain is saying I have to have them. And when I first met you (last year), I thought yeah, I could bang her, but there wasn’t that click, ya know? I mean, if a girl is really attractive but is missing something in her personality, I can work with it, but yeah.”

Which, as you can imagine, being told you are not attractive enough for them, is just the biggest ego boost.

Which I find stupid. You will make “compromises” for girls with less personality but with more physical appearance, however, if she has an amazing personality but perhaps is not a model, there cannot be a compromise.

I’m good enough to introduce to your parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, I’m good enough to hang out with every single fucking god damn day, I’m good enough to make-out with when you’re tipsy, but I’m not good enough to be with.

I find this mental block interesting because it makes no sense to me.

I DON’T UNDERSTAND

They say rejection comes in 3’s.

I’m sitting on a deserted island, pen shaking in hand, aggressively drawing 3d squares in my sketch book as I lay on a beach towel listening to the sweet words, “I don’t think we should progress” stream out of my friends mouth.

What was supposed to be a lazy sunbathing day at the beach, turned into some sort of episode of Sex in the City, one where Miranda gets rejected by stuck up lawyer who has a phobia of using chopsticks in public, thus resulting in her spending the rest of the episode sitting on her couch eating a tub of ice cream, awaiting for Carrie to bless her with supportive friend statements, such as “you’re too good for him” and the classic, “he’s an asshole”. (yes, that was all one sentence).

The issue with the above situation is, this is not some guy I met at a bar last week and decided to test the waters with. This is one of my good friends. Is it possible for two friends of the opposite gender to hang out almost everyday in a perfect platonic atmosphere? Absolutely not. Why? Self-interest. There is absolutely no way I would invest my time in an individual whom I was not attracted to on some level, whether that be emotionally, physically, mentally.  In addition, there is always that thought in my head- if he hangs out with me daily, he must like me. See, see what I mean. Do you see that people? Do you see that? Hope. That small fraction of hope festered into my head leaving me tied to him until god knows when.

Let’s skip back to the scene on the beach. As I have learned from romantic comedies, these “let’s just be friends” conversations are very uncomfortable and can result in a person having sudden bursts of anger or suffering from those anxious crying fits. During the conversation, I was laying on my stomach, hiding my face with my mop of curly hair which worked in my favor, as my tears camouflaged itself into beads of sweat dripping down my chest. I spent a majority of energy invested in swallowing my breaths and squeezing my eyes to stop the tears, but I did manage to catch a few sentences here and there.

“I see you as my soulmate, I mean, we hang out everyday. But I don’t think we should progress this relationship into anything more, it would ruin our friendship.”

Naturally I am usually quiet in these types of situations and calculate carefully if I should say anything or not. I usually choose not to, which is a big problem. Subconsciously, I have this “oh, don’t make the man angry” mentality, allowing myself to be passive and lethargic with expressing my feelings and opinions.  In return, this lack-of action simply allows the guy to manipulate and control the situation for his benefit.

Let’s be honest. My friend, while we have not had sex, have “hooked up” and he spends day after day at my house, sleeping over, watching movies, etc. Our friendship was not built on pure platonic relations, initially starting with us at a house party, making out. What did he expect me to feel? What did I expect myself to feel? I slid myself into this situation.

I’m confused, I’m flustered, I’m bubbling with emotions which I am unable to define.  I love someone who doesn’t love me, yet invests his time spending time with me daily. Mind fuck? Mind fucked.

I live across an exotic toy shop

which you would think is exciting. But it’s not. I await the day until I see someone walk out of it.

I tried to find a place to buy coat hangers today which took me an hour to find — and when I finally bought them I forgot how to get home. Which resulted in me walking around aimlessly realizing I’ve been walking around every street AROUND my block.

I also watched the new Ryan Gosling and Bradley Cooper movie “The Place Beyond the Pines” last night. If you haven’t watched it, you should — it’s a pretty decent flick. The movie itself really angered me, but I don’t want to spoil it. Let me know what you thought of it!